Vanillatastic - Inner City AU
by IZZY-CHAN13
Summary: A "real-life" version of Vanillatastic that involves Vanellope's crush on Thomas AKA "Turbo", who is more or less oblivious. Said fanfic searches for balance and plausibility in a modern setting. Ft. Beard Papa, OC Janet, and the Turbo Twins. For VPadial. (Originally published on deviantART in February 2015)
1. Chapter 1

Beer bottle in hand, ice cold, the man wiped sweat forming on his brow. The garage, shop door, was all the way open which let in a comforting breeze. He cleaned off more of the grease on his tanned fingers onto his work shirt giving a less than satisfied sigh to commemorate his handiwork.

"Only a half hour more," he breathed.

Thomas stood up gingerly and stretched to the blue, cloudless sky and overheard the grinding and cracking of bones. Another groan and a small grin showed. "Better."

Karts suddenly whizzed by the driveway and a gaggle of excited children and tweens ran far behind—

"Go! Go!"

"You can do it 'Taffyta'!"

"All right Vanellope!"

Left in the dust of the race and its fans, the mechanic walked towards the street, peering ahead at the finish line. Looked like a tie which set off quite a bit of banter and arguing that thankfully wasn't going to end in a fistfight anytime soon. Thomas was real glad that his miniature cars could take a beating and still keep together. He smiled warmly at nostalgia, when he was still small enough to fit into one of those things. Now any chances he got racing were at red lights going against a fellow neighbor. Dangerous hobby that was certain, but he couldn't think of much else to relive his glory days in the cool kid crowd.

The rush of adrenaline, tantalizing dopamine—that was enough to reinforce his behavior.

He was about to strut down the street when a honk made his neck screw—"You done?"

"Yes, sir," setting the glass down on a large metal box of a ventilator fan. The man got here much earlier. The last of the grime onto an old rag, he spoke again, "In the shop."

A burly dude lumbered out of the truck along with a rather petite being of a girlfriend. Thomas grinned at her although she did little but wave back. He returned the gesture before running into the office to pick up the key.

Once back, "So who's driving it home?"

The other man grunted and got inside his Dodge again. ". . ."

"Here," She handed the boy, in comparison, the full payment in cash, "Thank you for your service."

"Much obliged m'am." Trying to have _someone_ be in good spirits. It was a hot day but that was no excuse for her mate to be a d—

"Thanks." Before hopping into the cushion and igniting the engine.

He needed more work. Damn those chains in the pretty part of town..!

The hand took yet another swig of the liquid now close to room temperature. His grip on the neck of the bottle tightened but loosened considerably at the sight of the kids coming up the drive, "Hey, 'Turbo'!"

"Yeah." Suddenly finding his lips tugged upward like they were suspended by hook and wire. 'Turbo' finished the last of his warm beer and crossed his hands behind his back casually, although him drinking really didn't matter to them.

Their eyes were alight; the raven-haired chick and the bleached blonde were in the middle, dirt coated and exhausted.

"You saw, didn't you?" Intense blue and golden yellow curls inquired.

"See what, Randy?"

"'Rancis'." Correcting.

Blinking, "Oh right yeah."

Tanya crossed her arms and put on an impatient stance legs spread, leaning back some and tapping a sparkly tennis shoe, "Who'd you see win the race, _Thomas?_ "

"T-'Taffyta'." Smiling sheepishly clearly not in the position to be the referee, "I couldn't tell; a tie?"

Hazel irises got off the view of the concrete locked onto brown with a hint of orange, "Are you sure?"

The man cleared his throat and averted his eyes embarrassed more than anything, "Yeah Vanellope." At least her name didn't have a pseudonym attached to it. Count it on Thomas and some of his old friends to come up with "Sugar Rush Racers" based on their then undying affinity for sweets and other unhealthy snacks and drinks. Now just looking at a slice of cake topped with buttercream frosting was enough to make him just a bit queasy.

Those "buddies" were now either married with kids or in prison, give or take a few..

The girl hung her head down again before perking right back up, "Thanks for being honest, 'Turbo'." He could only shrug; he couldn't see shit much less when his client showed up.

Other racers and their audience groaned as if convinced they had to start the whole competition over. 'Swizzle Malarkey' mumbled under his breath with a Hispanic accent, "I gotta get home," brushing his dyed green over naturally dark brown hair with tense fingers.

"Tch, man me too." 'Snowanna' sighed. The sun was blinding their side view as it began sinking into the watery horizon. Taffyta shielded her eyes and gave a glance at her rival, and friend,

"You did good, Vane." Heading off kinda slow, looking behind her to see if the slightly younger one would follow. The man sat down on a folded out metal chair which creaked at his weight, crossing a leg over the other seeing the others off, except her.

"Vane, you're staring at me." Stating it matter-of-factly. "Long day, huh?"

The 12 year old blinked at his initial sentence and shifted one foot behind her ankle, rather shy. "Yeah. Sorry I—"

Tanya took a hold of her shoulder, "Come on. You can have dinner at my place." The male went close-lipped at Vanellope's simple nod and somber expression. For a long time now, through casual observation, he figured she was much more energized and sociable than that.

Odd, really.

"Night, you two, or evening."

The blonde gave a polite grin and whisked off with the other, whom she gave a very quick, very intense stare. The sky pooled itself into blue before the humming sodium lights of the inner city changed it to black and purple. Turbo just stayed there settled for almost an hour, attempting to relax. His soundscapes were the pulsing choppers of helicopters and the occasional siren a few blocks down.

He was lucky that he didn't live on a main street.

* * *

"Really?"

Vanellope stared down at her hands within her lap, fingers twisting and meshing in her fiddling. Her fair complexion revealed an obvious shade of pink darker than her cheek's natural tinge. Taffyta facepalmed before undoing the twistable plastic licorice that served to keep the blushing girl's hair up.

"You liking _him?_ I mean he's kinda cool and all."

"Yeah.."

"But you can't just be like, 'Hey I'm crushing hard on you; can you be my boyfriend?'"

Slight pause, ".. Why not?"

The blonde was so glad to have been sitting cross-legged behind her on the bed as she brushed the thick black keratin. Her face frozen in shock if not paling in horror, "You're joking. He's so—

"Old? I can see that—I'm not stupid, Tanya." Frowning and folding her arms.

"I didn't _say_ you were—

"You're thinking it." Vane sounded hurt, believing that her on-and-off comrade would get it by now. Tanya tugged back strands of hair as if to retort, 'I was _not!_ '

"ow."

The girls slipped into some silence until the older of the two chimed in, "Do you think he'd like you back? I mean, in 'that way'?" Trying a tone that was meant to be comforting. Out of habit her fingers worked in braiding Vanellope's longer hair. It was late and both were already in their pastel-colored flannel PJs. The caretaker gladly handed the girl over to spend the night or two.

The younger one bit her lip, "I don't know." Overhearing some action movie from the living room made her space out for a bit. "I don't have…." Looking down at her flat chest, the lack of rounded hips. The only thing she had going was her youthful face without a hint of makeup. But surely that wouldn't be enough to leave an impression on her current interest. "Probably not. He'd, maybe even tease me for saying that."

She resumed a downcast gaze. Taffyta sighed while securing the end of the rope.

How to let the lovestruck racer know that this attraction was a bad, even dangerous idea? There was no way to beat around the bush with this and it went without saying that this little female could know very well what having a relationship with an older male would entail.

"Look. I don't want him to.. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

Vane about laughed at that, wrapping her arms around herself, "You know why I'm here." Voice strained, knees now up to her chest.

The other chick got in front and hugged her tight, "Yep."

"Get off." Trying to smile as her way of thanks.

* * *

Thomas gave a simple wave of the hand to acknowledge his next door neighbor's appearance. The middle-aged approaching her 40s fought herself from giving a condescending stare, sulking back into her apartment and clicking the last of the three locks shut before a sliding of a chain bolt. The younger man found her rather sour and there was really no reason as to why she'd act that way. Part of him went, "bitch" while the other chastised him for being inconsiderate of her background. Everyone around him surely fell on hard times in their past, or now.

A quick shower and change of clothes and he stepped out into the living room, held-on towel still drying off his pitch only to find his lighter-skinned and taller doppelgangers with broads glued to their sides.

 _I should've locked the door too._

Pretty soon they'd wear out their so-called welcome. The oldest of the twins turned 'round and smiled cheekily, "oh oh! Who's this?" The woman saw "little Turbo" and giggled. Yes; he was the youngest of the three.

"Your mom!"

" _Our_ mom!"

"Whatever," not caring much that free flesh was available to him. An annoyed air about the 27 year old prompted him to head into the kitchen to prepare dinner for one. If the guys and their guests were so hungry they'd get off their asses and do it themselves.

He pulled out a simple wooden chair with a pad for a cushion and partook in his meal of mainly seasoned vegetables and white rice, with few pieces of chicken breast. To drink, room temperature water in a bottle. Thomas searched for hot sauce in the pantry and came face to face with yet another spider lounging on its web. "I'm getting you in a mil—no use in running." So relieved that it wasn't a cockroach; he had been witness to so many in his childhood it tired his eyes easily now. At least he tried maintaining cleanliness unlike some of the residents. It would be a matter of time before.. "Ugh."

Tiny ones were the worst.

Mind quelled into some silence while trying to enjoy his meal. By the end of it the voices of the adjacent room were falling hard on his ears. "Christ." Escaping into his room to put on a mixed CD on his CD/cassette player. The 80s blared from the closed door yet it wasn't deafening. An hour passed by before he came back to planet Earth and noticed the people leaning over each other. The beer had been accessed and it looked like they had 2 or 3 each. Once the boys and girls straddled one another the man knew it was time for them to get " _Out!_ "

The girls laughed, not taking him seriously. Benjamin groaned, "'Does it really hurt you that we didn't bring a lady friend for ya?"

"Shut. Up." Opening the door wide for them, "Go get a motel room for all I care—just go on! You two barely do any productive shit around here anyway."

"What _kind_ of production, little brother?" With an almost vile sneer. Joseph was the quieter of the two and kept his currently loopy sight glued on the carpet, swaying, knowing how angry "Turbo" could get. A 2-year old phonebook's weight out of nowhere prompted the lot of them to obey.

"How rude, boy." Thomas folded his arms at the straight-haired brunette in defiance, "Out, _girl_." A kiss made him draw breath and push her back. Of the two Joseph finally got up and shoved him over the arm of the arm of the couch. "Oof!"

"We'll leave now, you uptight prick."

The kid sprawled for a few minutes after the door closed behind them, staring up at the grainy chunks of stucco of the ceiling.

* * *

Vane awoke the next morning, blushing a little red. She sat up in "Taffyta's" bed rubbing at her eye and sniffing a little, "uh..?" Her friend was already up; she could smell something pleasant and hopped out of the covers, bumping into the little brother right after—"Hey!"

The girl nearly knocked him over, "Oh! Sorry!" Holding his shoulders reassuringly to let him know that it was an accident.

 _I'm so clumsy._

She smiled up at a slender Russian woman carrying a light accent, "Morning Vicky."

"Have a good sleep?" She placed the last pancake on top of a heaping pile to serve, which Vanellope took to do it herself. It was the least she could do, "Yep."

"Tanya, breakfast is ready!"

The guest glomped her friend who was mesmerized by E! Television. "Vanellope..!"

"Yelp." A set of giggles got the blonde to chuckle, "Okay; what did you dream about?"

"Nnnnothiinnngg~ But it was good!"

Both kept their frumpy look all throughout that morning, relaxing on this Saturday, with no talk of who was better at racing or other such competition. The "T" word wasn't even uttered, although just a fleeting thought of him got the girl to mesh her fingers and crook in her head to her shoulder. Surely he'd be working—he always was..

"Psst. Vane."

"Hm?" Tanya shook her shoulder gently, "Get up now."

The girl felt great lying in the cool grass and hummed refusing to do so. This was one of the more decent parks closer to the upper class area of town. The sun was up high and the chatter of small children became a lullaby for her. "Taff you should really try this…"

"But you're getting stains on your shirt." The other sighed and sat up. A splotch of green had decorated her off-lavender t-shirt with a pink swirl lollipop at its center; luckily that stain was only on the side of the torso area. "Meh." Flopping back down again to which the other growled in frustration, "Move your butt!" Pulling at her arms.

"You mean, move your a—"

" _Vane!_ "

The girl laughed, "Hmmm.. I love him." Circling fingers on a patch of dirt in absolute naivety, sighing contentedly. Rather than spoil the mood, blue eyes closed with a tiny smirk following. "Come on Vanellope. Your mom's going to pick you up soon."

"Yippie." Rolling eyes.

* * *

At some point she was going to have to 'fess up, not knowing when or how. Truth to tell she believed that Thomas barely noticed her. Vanellope locked the door to her space and fished out her homework, pencil and eraser missing until she dug into the pockets of her teal zip-up sweater. Her room was a mess. Unfolded but clean clothes were pushed to the floor to join scattered pairs of shoes and books. Lying on her stomach with feet suspended in the air, white tennis still on.

"Let'sh sthee.." Biting on the wood of the Ticonderoga barrel. An hour of tedious math about put her to sleep again, yet the 55-question set was at last completed save a couple more complex items. "Time for English." What was the point of studying a language that's already learned just from living in this country?

Ten pages of the textbook finished, 20 to go. Noises proven to be teeth-grating sounded from the living room. Someone was home. "Come on Vanellope let's do this reading." The sun set low. Lights were turned on and blinds shut on the 2nd floor of the apartment house. Not so comfy on her stomach now, she pushed herself up on the backboard to prop the book up on her knees, neck hurting like crazy after a half hour but it would have to be allowed. The tween had tongue in cheek, thinking that she should invest in an mp3 player of any kind just to drown them out. Almost done.. There. The book shut and tossed into the opened pack.

Gingerly, Vanellope unlocked her door walking into a dingy hallway. Worn carpet in need of a good deep cleaning, the spots consisting of those past messes from other families that resided here, their pets, and then some. The girl looked ahead and half smiled at whoever was there, "Hi." Before grabbing a couple Nutri-Grain bars not being that hungry. A few small bites prompted her to think of a movie she could take back to her room to watch on the box television with an embedded VHS player. Comedy? Romance? No; adventure sounded good.

"Mom?" A woman peered up at her looking rather tired. "Want to..?" Blank stare. "N-never mind." Grabbing whatever movie from the genre she chose to dash back into her room. Locking the door. Getting a pillow before turning on the hum of the TV and letting the VCR do its thing. At least this one had both speakers working!


	2. Chapter 2

A woman at the counter leaned forward, having no shame in having her large physique decorate its surface—mounds partially uncovered due to the heat laboring just outside. The air conditioning wasn't the best. Said woman straightened her posture when someone familiar showed up, "Good af-ter-noooon~!"

A girl lifted the corners of her lips without force, "Hi Janet," taking a couple candies from a clear plastic jar near the register, "I'm gonna pay for them this time ok?"

The lady laughed, "Is that fair to my sweet Vanellope?" The other rolled her eyes at the obvious but giggled nonetheless, "I'll look around for more stuff."

"Take your time child," batting her heavily lashed eyes, seeming flirtatious to those that didn't know her. Janet was married to Beard Papa, or Richard, who had just declared break from his patrolling duties. Gone were the days where he packed speed and muscle to take down 'enemies of the peace'. Didn't stop him from touting a pistol in his holster; Janet insisted that the station let him, "insofar as he can damn see!"

One of those adversaries greeted him with a smile, "Afternoon Richard—erm, officer."

The older man tipped his hat, "Been speeding along lately?"

"Hm, not that I recall," Thomas grinned. A large yet stubby hand held the edge of the holster, "Now don't think I don' keep tabs on ya."

"Well," the young man strode by, "I'm just here for beer and some groceries; don't mind me," hand pushing back hair before a question, "How's Miss Janet?"

Richard halted, " _Mrs._ You can find out through her; she's in there with _Miss_ Vanellope."

Vane noticed the two outside and tried to hide in one of the aisles—one where she believed 'Turbo' couldn't possibly find her. It would have been just as embarrassing had she been of age.

"Thomas~!" The jovial tune.

"Hello, Mrs. Janet," throwing her a wink, "I'm learning good manners from your hubby."

Janet laughed, "Betta watch yo'self," pointing with her chin to the section of paper plates, napkins and utensils, "Over there's one of your racing troopers."

Vanellope gasped in shock; she couldn't get mad though. Covering her face by pretending to inspect the contents of a plastic bag seemed ridiculous, but it would buy her time to—

"Hey Vane..!" Greeting by tapping her shoulder lightly, "It's been a while." It wasn't more than a week; she gulped, "Hi 'Turbo'—Thomas." Fidgeting by tucking hair behind her ear, face rosy. Hoping that the heat just gave enough excuse for the complexion.

"Scorching today, huh?" Thomas had picked out a brand of drink from the refrigerator, offering her one just for the condensation for her shoulder and neck. Shyly, she accepted the glass bottle, "Yeah definitely," sighing but not so relieved. Turbo had given her one of the dorky, super friendly smiles reserved for anyone uninfluenced by cynical adulthood. The girl looked away with a firm hold on the beer on tingling skin, "You, um, need to be somewhere..?"

Thomas had forgotten to take a basket to place the items in, "hm?"

"Never mind," placing the bottle into its cardboard slot, wishing to just pay for her snacks and go.

'Turbo' realized, again, that she wasn't being her normal self. "Hey.." Said girl looked up rubbing an eye. "Want to walk together? Your place is on the way to mine."

Vane assumed that her parents wouldn't consider inviting _him_ into their home. Wishful thinking, "S-Sure!" A stab at enthusiasm without giving too much away..

Janet looked on from a distance, "Young'uns ready to buy?" Thomas had taken Vanellope's snacks to pay for them. She groped at air until the clatter of the cash register brought her back to reality. She practically stomped her foot in protest but couldn't get the words out, "I..!" Brows furrowed a smidge but the color of her face betrayed something else, as well as nervous fingers wringing at the hem of her shirt, which Mrs. Janet raised her own shaped brow at.

When Thomas offered her his arm out of cordiality as the other minded the bag of food and drink, the preteen stood still for some seconds until Janet cleared her throat, "Will be seein' you both real soon y'hear?" Curling fingers in place of a wave, "Bye Miss Vanellope~" Closing a beautiful chocolate eye for the millisecond to only augment the nervousness Vane felt by being near her chosen mate.

Beard Papa was about to ruffle her hair out of habit but noticed the same thing. Thomas gave his polite goodbyes out of habit and didn't see a shocked, open jaw on the old guy. His wife covered her laughs with a coughing fit, facing away from her work post.

* * *

"Thanks, 'Turbo'." The other gave pause, ".. Not a problem."

Vane tried hard not to let out a whimper. She should be feeling lucky to have crossed paths with him once more; she was wasting her chance to tell him.

"Ahm.. Can I..?" They were only a block away from her place. "Yes?" Not a clue presently as to what she wanted. The younger raven sucked in air, "Can I, tell you something?"

He nodded slow, keeping expression neutral to not discourage her. Once there was enough mustered up courage the girl opened her mouth to gasp when one of her dragging feet caught on a crooked, raised part of the sidewalk. Her grip loosened on his arm; Thomas swooped down to catch her by the head and left shoulder. To any passerby it was a low dip.

"You ok?" How could he not hear her heart thundering at this proximity? If he did, it would be easily mistaken for fear of almost cracking one's head on the concrete. "Alley oop," lifting her steadily to a limp stand, knees shaking.

"mmh.. I'm sorry Turbo I'm so clumsy," mumbling it out. The man grinned, "No way you're that clumsy—how can you handle going top speeds down the street?" Sticking his tongue out at the sidewalk, "It's this thing's fault. They need to fix it, right?"

Blushing at its clearest, "R-Right. Yeah." Feeling lean, strong arms under the sleeves of a loose white shirt for longer than intended for support finally got his attention. "Should we get you home now?" A tic of growing nervousness was in the form of a tapping index finger upon a small hand, prompting Vanellope to distance herself for the rest of the walk.

Someone stood just outside the apartment complex, "Don't head out anywhere unless you tell me where you're going." Vane gulped and laughed a bit out of embarrassment while Thomas stared at her, too long for comfort.

"Hello, Thomas;" her mother eyed him suspiciously all the same, "thanks for bringing her home."

"Not a problem," a small nod in acknowledgment before handing back the items that belonged to the girl in slightly trembling hands, "See you, Vane. Be good." Dialogue went out choppy.

"Bye." Not trying to keep eye level with him and not seeing him off as he seemed to sulk away, shoulders tensed. "Sorry Mom. Just wanted, these.." dejected, "I'll, go upstairs."

Out of habit she gave a kiss on her mother's cheek.

* * *

"Can I have one, little brother?"

"Whatever."

Pop and fizz of the bottle; Benjamin swung it down, "Ah~" Bubbly contentedness on his face, "How've you been, 'Turbo'?" The other shrugged his shoulders, profile on neutral—better than a foul mood at least. Gone were the days of roughhousing, soccer and American football. And those occasional bike races. It would be nice to see the lighter side of the youngest sibling come out once more.

".. You tired?" Thomas nodded off to indifference and the heat, "huh?" Now burying his head inside his arms on the dining table—he was also tired about thinking about a certain someone. He groaned some in lifting himself out of the chair.

"Imma take a nap. Don' trash the place."

Ben chuckled, "Not without friends to help me out. Go to sleep, workaholic," with a small yet comforting smile that Tom failed to notice.

The guy removed his shirt before turning on a small fan and curling up on his mattress. As he relaxed for a longer while he ended up sleeping on his stomach. Wavering images of a young, rose tinted face dominated his last conscious thoughts.

* * *

A month had passed by without admitting it out loud. Vanellope knew that it affected Thomas after all. The man was more attached to his work than usual, going so far as to shut the garage door at the shop in favor of having the air conditioner on at full blast—despite the fact that it was nearing the end of summer. A few times throughout August, Janet asked and wondered about the young girl's crush during her occasional meal visits at her quaint country style home. She would be ignored for the most part, shame covering Vanellope's features. And Thomas had very little jokes to tell whenever he popped into the store for a quick errand.

It seemed that it would rain this week. The kid racer leaned against the blonde for support in more ways than one, "He knows, Tanya. How can I face him now..?" She too played the avoidance game. Her friend took an opportunity to massage tense shoulder muscles despite the tiny, strained giggles from the younger girl who wasn't used to it.

".. Can't say that you'll get over it soon. But I want you to know that, I'm here for you no matter what."

Vane peered up at 'Taffyta' from slumped shoulders with a glassy look.

* * *

She stared out her bedroom window blankly during a drizzle, gripping at a plush of a green candy with dangling limbs. If she wasn't on the second floor she'd sneak out. Someone had come to visit, no one that she cared to see. It was during these instances when she wanted her father to come home early for the weekend. Vane shook her head when Thomas took over her thoughts.

"Where's your little one?"

"She's not so little anymore; she's not allowed to get out of her room until she's done with her cleaning and homework."

Mom to the rescue. She breathed a sigh of relief when said mother added on that the girl wasn't to be disturbed. She could rest soundly.

* * *

The more he obsessed over it, the more anxious he was getting. There's no way that any girl would look his way twice given his background. Why did it have to be her? A young, 12 year old girl—attracted to someone pushing 30.. 27.

Groaning into his hands, the sound muffled by running water from the shower head, "I don't.. She's a good girl but.." Were crushes like this common? Would she simply grow out of it? Why did he even care?

Face flushed to white after a minute tingling on his cheeks, the shock subsiding to reveal reddening features, "I—we..! Goddammit!"

A curious Benjamin raised a brow at the flagrant outburst, inching closer to the bathroom door as Joseph stepped into the apartment. Ben motioned him over to listen in, a grin playing on his bespectacled face.

Thomas found his situation much worse at the instant he looked down at himself. A gasp scared out of its wits before a loud cry of anguish, "Fuck!" He froze when he heard the others bust a gut, "H— _hey!_ "

Immediately out the door with nothing to hide his intimate self.

"Geez," Ben chuckled, "Haven't had enough?" He was met with a full bottle of shampoo on the side of his chest—Joseph had to duck away from the conditioner though it resulted in a gooey mess on the floor.

"It's not what you thought assholes!"

"Ow." The older guy rubbed circles on the sore spot, "Then what was it?" Thomas, unhinged, gave a sharp smack across his face, "None of your business!"

Joseph got a clean robe from the laundry basket in the living room and draped it on his brother's shoulders, "Your hotheadedness is what's saving you from falling ill." 'Turbo' gulped, pulling away from the soft tone of his voice and comforting hands, "Thanks." Teeth chattering from how angry he was at them, and himself; he chewed on his tongue in the meantime.

"I'll clean that up," going to the pool of hair product with a dry towel, "I'll, buy another one at Janet's."

Thankfully he didn't have to bump into Vane again, for the time being. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't escape from the black woman's knowing, concerned gaze and light ruffling of his hair, feeling bashful but not at all dangerous in that moment.

Benjamin was going to have a field day touting the incident around to his peers.

* * *

This reaction to the situation was ridiculous. Thomas was the breadwinner of a broken family and this fear of a pre-teen shouldn't usurp his role. "I'm not in high school anymore..!" Rubbing his temples with a fist holding onto a mucked up rag, elbow on the hood of a sedan. "Shouldn't bother me."

Right?

A buzzing at the reception desk sharpened his focus. He washed his hands with Orange cleaner and a blue paper towel. Slicked his hair back just enough to get the strands out of his face. Quick wipe with a soft cloth to get most of the sweat off.

"Good morning..!" Glancing at the hand clock to make sure it was before 12:00.

"Morning." The man had on a stern look, but it wasn't directed at the mechanic, "I need to get the brakes and tires checked. That's all." Pulling out a trifold wallet, "I'll pay you up front."

Thomas couldn't help but gawk at the thick wad of cash. What confidence he must have to not get mugged. "That's, not necessary. I can't take it anyway." Making eye contact proved to be difficult—clear eyes on dark skin, irises green with muted umber in the middle. Why did they have to be hazel? A girl's cheerful expression distracted him for a moment's time.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Oh—yeah—I'll get right on that." Thomas shook his head at himself before turning a quarter to walk briskly to the car workshop. He caught himself at the entryway, "Where are my manners? What's your name?"

A despondent "William Duran." got out of the man's vocal cords. "Thanks."

'Duran Duran'? The younger man covered a grin as a song of theirs began to play in his head on loop as he did the assigned task, after moving the other job just outside. William could only sit still at the waiting room for 10, 15 minutes before heading into the garage, leaning slightly on a nearly spotless wall, fighting off the urge to cross his arms. It was clear he was still practicing the art of patience. It wasn't too long before 'Turbo' felt eyes on him. He wanted a positive lasting impression on this new client so he decided to engage in conversation, "What sort of meeting do you have to get to?" Noting the ironed dress shirt, the lack of a tie.

"It's not any meeting, this time," as if Thomas was floating in the air, "Felt like getting home early and.." Forefinger tapped on his arm, "About done?" The other kept composure, "Yessir." Completing the last of it. "Let's go back to the office."

Thomas had resolved to keep his mouth shut save for business formalities. Just as the customer was receiving his change, he spoke in a tone laced with apology, "I wanted to take my daughter somewhere."

The young man flinched, "Oh?"

"Hm," The father gave a nod, "before her friend steals her away again." The mechanic underhandedly gripped onto the counter and forced out a chuckle, "For sleepovers?" The other shrugged; Thomas made sure not to gulp aloud, "Hope you have a good time with your kid. You deserve a break."

An itching at the back of his neck was ignored. His own father left just a little after his 13th birthday; his mother would later compare him to his overly ambitious father. Mentally he shook his head.

 _Shut up._

William accepted the musing with a smile, then took his leave, "Thank you; have a good day." Tom could only wave.

Processing that information gave him another headache. A lot of kids had sleepovers; why care?

He stared at the ticking clock wanting so desperately to close up shop for the day. Hand buried in his hair as he hunched over the table.

"I _don't_ like her that way."

* * *

Janet peered out the window with nothing much to see in the blue backyard; the chirping of crickets was enough to distract one from the farther view of the pinpricks of light from the town at dusk.

"Oh, Richard—I can't let it go on like this no more."

As delicious as his meal was, Richard had been letting it cool to ponder on what topic she referred to, "Honey," scratching at his forehead, "This isn't.. it's not." Breathing out the rest as if he had already given up, "It's not the same as our case. You know that."

The woman poked at her dark complexion, "I know; both of us young and in love." She sighed for their nostalgia—school dances and the moment where her to-be husband stood up to their peers to defend the relationship, to 'colored' and white peers alike. "My hero~"

She wrapped her arms around the now rotund man in admiration, "It's alright hon," kissing the cheek before the lips, stubby whiskers tickling her face. 'Beard Papa' blushed. Clearing his throat, "I don't want to set that girl up for trouble."

"Don't you worry your pretty head about that," nuzzling, "I'll be mediator."

They held hands when the woman took a seat on the man's lap.

"You failed to finish your food; want to skip it for dessert?"

* * *

That girl loved her father, who happened to be miles away from town most of the time. He claimed that he didn't hate his wife, but only was compelled to stay away from what he considered her hysterical nature. No interest in another mate—of that he was certain.

The man gripped his daughter's hand from across the table, "How's your day so far?" The jade within his orbs held a shine that could only be activated by Vanellope's presence. She welcomed the affection by covering his tan hand with hers. For a minute she studied the difference in size and build.

".. Daddy.. How come you can't be with us?"

Their dinner arrived; they had to withdraw their touch. "Thank you; right here." As ordered, a glass of red wine and its bottle was placed on the table. While he didn't have a life of luxury, William made it decent being in an upscale apartment in the big city and making enough money for outings like this. For all his forward thinking, his wife refused to leave the place of her childhood.

Vanellope got to open the small wrapped box next to her vinyl purse which occupied a seat. A delicate silver chain with her birthstone fixed into a pendant was her gift for their reunion. "This is beautiful Daddy," struggling a little with fastening the stand around her neck, "Thank you." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a faint curling of her lip with an unfocused gaze. Brows crinkled to show a strain of anxiety. Her dad had failed to answer her question.

"…" Without force, he held Vanellope's hand up to his softened gaze to give it a kiss, as if to a princess. In that moment she was grateful to know that a male in her life wasn't embarrassed, or covert, in showing affection. In William's own hazel eyes there was a growing sadness despite the glow in his features. The girl knew that if she brought up their family situation again he would retreat back into his mind, and the light would go out.

They were in such a meditative state that they couldn't notice for a minute or two that the food was getting cold.

* * *

"Will she be ok?" A finger tapped the steering wheel.

"Hm?" He was asking about her friend, 'Tanya'. "Oh. Yeah."

The man hummed in waiting for traffic to thin, "I'm glad the mechanic fixed this up in time."

.. Mechanic?

The girl gave way, into her seat. There was only one she knew in the area. "Found the place luckily; the sign needs work." Vanellope coughed from her poor posture before opening the window to let in chilly air, "Sorry."

"What for?" Continuing to drive now, patting her shoulder. She had to smile even if he wasn't looking, "You're, talking about Thomas, right?" Her father raised a thin brow and nodded at the street.

"He's a friend, to us racers—you know, um, Sugar Rush?"

William made a sideways scowl; so he was the one responsible for those karts—despite the craftsmanship, "You all check when there are cars coming, right?"

"Mhm," tightening her fists on her navy blue skirt, "Sometimes he watches our races; Turbo's usually busy though."

At the last red light before the apartment, her dad looked her way, "Is that his nickname?" Her cheeks warmed at the slip up as she nodded. For the time being William ruffled her hair noting her unease, dropping said mechanic from the conversation for the rest of the ride.

* * *

The blonde held onto her jittery hand several times under the table as they bore witness to the overly casual conversation between the guys and a woman's disbelieving glare. As it turned out, Vane's mother didn't make time to call the friend's residence about the sudden change in plans. Tanya just happened to run into Thomas who was pretty conflicted in his back and forth pacing at his shop's driveway.

Through simple conjecture, she figured he wanted to see her younger friend. 'Turbo' thanked heaven alive that he didn't have a similar reaction upon seeing the young blonde as with the raven-haired one.

 _Not into little girls. Good._

While Thomas seemed alright between talking about work and aspirations with 'Bill', minute look-sees at Vanellope without warning tended to result in one or the other blushing for a few seconds. Tanya bit her lip discreetly, wanting to talk to her companion. She was relieved when Bill asked his daughter to prepare coffee. Assuming that she was being ignored, his distant wife excused herself to turn in.

"Good night, Ms. Von Schweetz," with a sunsweet smile, about to give a short wave of his hand as she turned when he saw the kids dash off, arms linked.

Some seconds' silence. ".. I'm never going to get her out of here." Dark tan hands meshed on the table, the older man sighed. Thomas couldn't help but feel bad for him, "At least, you try?" For an instant, he wondered if his father ever tried doing the same, or if he even cared.

Bill wasn't all there. First connection with reality was hunkering down to see his phone.

Tanya was the one who sauntered in with the mugs filled to the brim with black—

"Um, did you both want anything to go with it? Vanellope's looking around and, she may need help," pointing her attention with a bob of her head to 'Turbo'. In that instant he held the father's trust or lack of concern if he was still blank.

Vane held a tray going with various dollar store pastries and a cup of milk, sugar, creamer. Without her say-so, the young man put the sweeteners away. "Huh?"

"Ha. I don't like the stuff if there's sweets around." He about clicked his tongue for the wordplay. "Hey, Vanellope."

She twitched her lip into a tiny smile unable to respond.

".. Your dad doesn't use this either, right?" Holding up the ceramic with ice cold dairy; Vane shook her head and took it to gulp down. Perhaps to buy time. As she couldn't hold both at once, Thomas carried the tray as a favor.

"Y-You don't have to," using a scrap of a napkin to wipe her mouth, "I got it."

When 'Turbo' insisted it wasn't a problem, Vanellope paled to white, "You're a _guest_ , and I'm not helpless..!" In a show of tradition, she wrenched the handles away, pinching his fingers between metal to which he hissed.

Instead of apologizing for the slight, she huffed, nose angled to the ceiling as she went through the hallway. 'Turbo' didn't voice any scolding, knowing how small the place was. He only gave a sheepish grin to the others at the table.

Bill was out of his stupor and was enjoying his coffee in silence, brows raised slightly at the bread. He gave thanks before getting the plainest of the bunch. 'Taffyta' opened a mini cinnamon roll and went into the kitchen to help herself to a glass of milk.

Vane refused to sit near what should have been her wished soulmate and rather took a spot next to her daddy. He was visibly delighted at her kiss on the cheek and reciprocated it. The other male hoped it wasn't some twisted plan to get him jealous; it wasn't working and it just made him all the more nervous.

"Your coffee's getting cold." Mere observation from the father. Nonchalantly, the guy took a seat and grabbed a random pastry with the jerkiest of movements that could have easily knocked the mug over. Tanya returned, which calmed him down some to take long sips of the caffeinated concoction. Everything went quiet for a while; Vane mentally kicked herself for this evening.

Thomas was just confused. What was this girl's deal with him? To try and get close, as she wanted him to, only to be repelled away. It was obvious by the glances Taffyta kept giving him that she knew what was up. The pinching on his skin earlier had left a mark. It didn't seem that the one sitting diagonally from him would make it up to him soon, or ever. Truth to tell he was getting ticked.

"So, Vanellope," leaning forward to a respectable proximity, "when are you going to tell your _father,_ " effectively earning Bill's attention, "about that serious crush you have?"

He fought off the urge to sneer when her medium sized brows shot up and her mouth opened, agape. The Russian about choked. The dad saw Vane in mild surprise before a smile and a light chuckle, "Oh?"

Raven hair fell over in wild streaks at the sides of a reddening face. Miss Vanellope couldn't get a single word out to confirm or deny what he brought up. Any satisfaction he felt withered away when he heard the softest of sniffles. Bill wrapped a comforting arm around her, "It's alright baby."

She peered up out of raw, watering sockets. "I'm not mad, ok?" He focused on giving a massage on a shoulder instead of asking for details.

Tanya felt under the young man's shirt and pinched him on the side, hard. Thomas bit on the side of his tongue to keep from shrieking—her pastel pink lips seemed to form the phrase, "Don't be such a fuck up."

'Turbo' held his breath to prevent horrible manners at the table. The game had gone long enough.

"I'm sorry, Bill;" lifting himself up, "I need to be getting home." Wanting to have his intense stare dulled by suffering hazel orbs, "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to make you upset." Frustration and concern nullified each other making the phrase devoid of emotion.

The girl rubbed at her eyes, "N-no—It's not your fault."

Thomas swallowed phlegm, "We can talk some other time. Ok?" She gave one slow nod.

Bill's eyes flashed for an instant with something no one could interpret before dulling significantly, "Good night, Thomas. Think about an opportunity downtown." Pressure on his daughter's shoulder increased; Vane leaned back slightly so she wouldn't have to be pulled.

The other male pulled in a breath, "Yes. Thank you. Night everyone." He gave a general wave to the group and stepped out of the apartment, closing the door carefully before nimbling down the steps, where his legs gave way. Thomas needed to grip onto the railing.

 _.. Why the hell are my eyes stinging?_


	3. Chapter 3

Large clouds rolled in the night prior. Flashes of light went by unnoticed as early morning held the population in slumber.

He wanted to sleep in today. It had been a couple weeks since he stepped foot into Vanellope's home. Thomas tried to approach her "secretly", just needing a straight answer. On the occasion that she didn't feign an ailment to distance away, Vane would go quiet even at indirect questions about the nature of her attraction.

"Is there something you're afraid of..?"

The girl's hesitant hand would lay itself between them, inviting the other to place his hand over it. If seen at a park bench, they were nothing more than a pair of cousins, or a rather youthful uncle with his niece. The latter possibility gave the man goosebumps. If they looked at each other for too long, they would eventually have to explain themselves.

There was no clear plan on what would happen next. It was unhealthy to just let the anxiety on not knowing eat him up. What if he was lying to himself?

".. Maybe I'm just lonely," talking to his cereal, spoon suspended in the air, "Dammit," he breathed.

 _Desperate._

* * *

While the overly friendly shopkeeper made several attempts to set up a blind date for the odd "couple", middle school had started up again for the kids of Sugar Rush. Vanellope was one to walk home to not put too much pressure on her mother since her times of getting home from work varied. She and Taffyta didn't share the same class at the end of the day and they had yet to agree on a meeting spot for the semester.

Vane whistled at the yellowed, dark gray skies alone. A low roar in the distance prompted her to pull up the collar of her teal sweater.

 _It's Friday now.. Week's over. I can get some rest._

A noise up above stole any promise of a peaceful afternoon. A sideswipe view of her dad's car made Vanellope flinch; he was home way too early. Since meeting the mechanic, Bill had frequented the apartment without fail—no amount of work assignments could stop him.

"Why do you bother coming back? The answer is 'no'!"

"I could care less about you—I want the best for her!"

Eyes closed tight, hands over ears. What was so wrong in wishing that this could end so they could be happy again, together?

Water trickled down her back, "uh..!" The girl shivered under the oncoming torrent. Soon enough, it was a welcome change. She wandered away from her home, hoodie shades darker on the top half. With hair gone limp and heavy, it was set free. Warm droplets formed around reddened eyes, hiding underneath the weather. From afar, a curious outburst from a child and their caregiver carried by air from playing in the rain. An attempt to relax..

".. Vanellope?" The voice didn't startle her; she turned around slowly. Thomas blinked, trying to figure out if her face had changed color for a different reason. After about a minute, he got close, covering her figure with a large, two-tone umbrella. "I hardly noticed you with your hair down."

A stray smile was interrupted by a small cry; he allowed her arms to cling around his torso. For sole comfort, his arm wrapped around and gave small circling rubs on her shoulder. He looked back at where she had been, and understood the situation well enough to not bother asking. "Come on Vane; you'll stay at my place for now." He protected her from wind and from sight.

* * *

It took a little over ten minutes to get to his door at the complex. His female neighbor had just stepped out and raised a brow at the two of them before shrugging it off and moving on. Once inside, the somber kid distanced herself. Door shut with a click, Thomas' eyes went alert—orange prominent. "You," glancing away, "need to take off your clothes."

"Huh?" Snapping back to reality. Tom could only mumble out the rest as the preteen caught up on his words, "You're gonna get sick if you don't." He disappeared for some seconds and came back with a fresh change; Vane was urged—practically shoved—into the bathroom with urgency. The door shut with her weight, gripping the small pile. The overcast outside still allowed enough light for her to see where her arms and legs went into the fabric. Too embarrassed to ask for underwear, she removed her low-rise briefs and socks to place them in the hamper just outside the door to wash.

"Turbo..?" Peering around the wall which separated the hallway from the living room, "Where are..?" A faint aroma of butter and spices made her stomach growl. Normally a picky eater, seasoned vegetables were a welcome sight now.

Cooking a meal for two seemed to calm 'Turbo' down some. The faint pit patter of bare feet made him peer over at a small frame covered with an oversized white shirt and comfortable gray sweatpants. "You can go to my room for socks you know." Vane sat at the table instead, "I'm fine for now.. My feet need to, air-rate." The man went back to minding the food prep to hide his rose-tinted cheeks. There wasn't any real cause to be nervous—only if—

 _thunk! Tnk! Clk!_

"Dinnertime yet little brother? If you could believe it I just got back from a day's worth of interviews—I—" Having turned 'round after placing a blue umbrella next to the large one on a scrap towel on the floor, Benjamin realized there was a lady guest in the house. At the sound, she had frozen up; he strode a little too gracefully in his sport jacket over his uncustomary dress shirt and pleated slacks, "Well hello~" The older brother offered his hand and a befuddled girl took it under a disdainful glance from someone else directed at the man before her. "Got a name, honey?"

"I, uh, I um," staring pleadingly at Thomas for help on her flawed memory—

"It's Vanellope Von Schweetz;" he clicked, "she'll be spending the night here," saying so rather despondently. Ben cackled, lenses glinting in the kitchen light, "With _you_ I presume, Tommy?"

Shutting off any immediate images that came to mind, "Whatever you're thinking, no." Apologizing to Vane with the dipped, tense arch of his brows, "Her home isn't really safe right now," he sighed. While the elder's eyes still kept a glow, his posture slackened some; he understood. Despite that, he took a seat shamefully near the girl to start a light massage on tense shoulders to which she whimpered. A lot more confident compared to her Turbo.

"You, don't have to.."

"'Benjamin'. And no use resisting," assuming that this was needed, after all, "it only hurts more later, m'dear." He then wondered in that moment how far he could go before getting a reaction from his brother without creeping out the girl too much. Over her right shoulder he threw a quick wink—her face confirmed what he already knew—before hugging her to his chest from behind. A clatter of a wooden utensil followed.

"You are _sooo_ cute~!" Nuzzling into her damp hair, "I'm about to make you my baby sister." Vane's heart pounded; this wasn't funny. She couldn't gather the strength or even the will to push against him; the girl kept mute. But with a single movement, Thomas had pried them both away from each other, a clear fire in his eyes, "Leave her alone." Ben was dangling off the seat, ankles wrapped on the bottom half of the chair to not take an immediate fall—If Thomas let go now his head would get a nasty bump. The tone in that voice wasn't some teenager's jealous gripe. It was authoritarian and it echoed a father's anger. Benjamin took the liberty to ease himself up again and slowly unlatched tan fingers from his shirt.

Vane, who had been hiding in her crush's chest up to this point, unwillingly pulled away. She meant to thank him but her eyes wandered elsewhere. Being here was surely going to bring misfortune.

The third brother came in through the door, "Hello..!" At this Vane hid her face; Joseph removed wet eclipse-style lenses and squinted, "Um; who's this?" Benjamin gave a pout that his twin couldn't discern, believing that anything said at this moment would throw the youngest off the edge. Thomas sighed, heading back to the stove with a clean spoon and a last minute plan to add more to the meal, leaving the girl at a distance from the eldest.

"If you guys want to eat, please serve yourselves when it's ready."

* * *

Joseph finally got the girl talking after about half an hour as they and the others were partaking in Asian fusion and hot n' sour soup, which was initially the youngest brother's disposition. Thomas had mellowed out enough to where he was speaking civilly with Benjamin about his interviews. Through his neutral affect Vane could still note a tinge of encouragement for his brother, even if it was only for the prospect that more money would come in. She was already more at ease with Joseph who kept his prying questions at an appropriate level (e.g. "What school do you go to?", "Since when were you into racing?"). Benjamin, in contrast, sat at the far corner of the couch to avoid any more conversation with her if it meant he'd be landing into trouble—although it couldn't be helped if Joseph wanted to bring them together. Vane's speech ended up being guarded by the end of the evening as the boys spoke of their childhood, lacing itself to tiredness by the intermittent yawn.

"About ready to quit the night?" Rectangular frames were removed for a moment to be able to rub at the inner corner of an eye with a honey-color center. Vanellope rubbed at her own eyes and nodded at Ben. Thomas had gone out earlier to get last-minute errands which included a toothbrush, paste and mouthwash set. The lady across the counter at the time didn't think too much about it. As he had left the convenience store, however, Janet had a mix of joy and worry for whoever that mystery guest was—looking up to the ceiling with a silent prayer that everything would be fine.

* * *

Pretty soon, he and Vane would be sharing the same bed after all.

The lack of phone calls was troubling for the man. Surely Bill would have been searching up and down the streets for his little girl. That is, if his wife didn't send him on an early leave for the weekend. Perhaps the woman was so used to hearing constant invitations to Tanya's place she didn't bother confirming her daughter's whereabouts with Vicky. For his own sanity, Turbo had also thrown in a pack of coolers and a menthol flavor pack of cigarettes during his shopping stint. He had given up smoking eons ago but with this whole situation it felt like the perfect time to puff it up in the dark with a window open to crisp, cold air, although that didn't happen this particular night.

Vanellope bundled herself into a cocoon within a thick quilted comforter. Under partially clouded skies they saw each other fully—it was confusing for both, as if living in a dream. The girl was afraid to close her eyes, believing she would be transported back to her room of solitude. Thomas, however, told himself that getting to enjoy a source of heat next to him for these next hours would spell certain doom. He forgot just what he was trying to protect her from, and wondered if he needed to do it at all. Everyone had family-related problems, so what was special about her case?

The bedside table lamp was clicked off; Thomas pulled the blanket out from under him and settled in, keeping a greater distance than before. Not even bothering to say 'good night', eyelids closed for some minutes when delicate fingers slipped into a slightly opened fist.

"…." The guy only pursed his lips discreetly. Vane gripped his hand, just a little. The slightest pressure of his reciprocation was enough. Vane accepted rest with a clear conscience. In the other mind, several voices and jeers shaming him clashed against others wanting to rationalize and console, leaving his brain in white noise and then a slight ringing in his ears. A thought to simply hold the girl to him made his heart beat a tad faster. He had to think of something else before he would start cursing again.

He didn't notice how much his hand was trembling; the girl opened her eyes gone misty. Pulling away, she turned her back on him. The arm curled back on its host. He began to sleep, but not in content. Thomas wanted to ignore the possibility that this kid might have been weeping.

* * *

The time of day was ignored, but it felt like less than five hours when Turbo awoke to low rumbling sounds and a light drizzle of rain on the pavement. As if he was reliving the same day. The difference was he was gripping onto something—someone—tight. Unfocused eyes went down to catch sight of the back of a girl's head. Sense of feeling returned to his arms; they fit snugly around her torso.

By now Thomas should have felt disgusted or alarmed that he had allowed himself, even in slumber, to be this close. His legs cradled hers. Not fully awake, he gave a small gasp at a twinge between them although it didn't prompt him to separate. It wasn't fair to steal sleep from Vanellope who had a rougher time, than he…. Must've instinctively protected her from the cold..

* * *

A fluttering of skin upon his cheek got him to groan, "unh… um?" Collagen upon his lips got an odd shudder out of him, clearly not awake. A massaging pressure on his shoulder subsided now and again assuring nothing was wrong.

 _Maybe we're both dreaming._

Vanellope blushed profusely at the absentminded eagerness—his tiny whimper when she got to kissing again, inexperienced. Weight shifted forward just enough for the male to return the favor to the "mystery woman". Thin fingers gripped onto him, "Annhm..!" He ended up leaning over her some; the hand that was on the shoulder slid down the length of the arm to cause a slip of the tongue,

"Hey..?" Fair-skinned digits found their way past the hem of the shirt; Vanellope could only feel the man up for a second before light brown orbs finally opened—"What the-?!"

Thomas nearly fell off the bed, "What do you think you're doing girl?"

Vane had shrunk back just a little, face red, "What were _you_ doing? I'm only doing what they do in the movies."

What kind of movies did she get to see?!

"I wasn't—I didn't know..!" Flustered, trying to sit himself up, "You—you know what you did was wrong.."

She looked to the mattress, "And..?" In shock and frustration, Tom couldn't help but growl, "It'd be easier just to have said it." Vanellope crumpled the sheets in her hand, brows furrowed, "So you could make fun of me again?"

With crossed arms, Thomas looked down on her with low brows. Soon enough he lied alongside the girl, "No; I won't try that again." Now it was his turn to offer a hand; she took it immediately—more confident in impulses than the spoken word. Or just plain reckless. Painful moments went by in silence.

".. Do you, l-like me, Turbo?" Blinking at their hands, "I mean, Thomas?"

The man sighed, exasperated, "Tell me _who_ you like, Vanellope." He kept his voice as low as possible now, worried that his brothers might have heard his outburst earlier, "Me, as I am, or this 'Turbo'? The infamous racer of your game of Sugar Rush."

Legs brushed lightly against each other as she came forward, "Can't I like both? The mechanic and the racer? You're both the same to me," giggling nervously, "I guess I'm used to the nicknames."

"No kidding.." A smile crept on his features in gratitude for the tween's response and their current disposition. What he wasn't prepared for was another kiss in full conscience.

His breathing and heartbeat picked up. Why was she tasting as sweet as her name? Not the tiniest bit of nausea from the pit of his stomach in locking lips with a minor. The pressure building down south threatened something more; Thomas kept it under control even as he happened to find himself diagonal to her small body. Hands in each other's hair seemed to let more of their guard down.

"T-Thomas," Vane moaned shyly to a planting of a kiss on her throat, "C-Can't we..?" Other hands held down hers onto the cushion so she couldn't let them wander more than they did. A faint "sorry" seemed to be at odds with a trick he began to pull in her mouth. Hazel lit up, "mmhaa-uhh..!" Chills coursed through Vanellope's back as her front was warming significantly, face tingling. Legs crossed. She eventually pulled her face away, breathless, "Wait."

Turbo got his chance to let out a chuckle, "Had enough?" After a wink he let all of her go in a second to lie on his back, hands behind his head, oddly calm while Vanellope sucked in air when she realized the guy was being an absolute tease—"ooh!"

The man laughed sounding carefree—the color on his cheeks and hidden throbbing of a member seemed to prove something else. In a few seconds he had reverted to looking somber if not aloof. He never answered her question, and began to seriously think about it. Cat was out of the bag, so to speak,

"Yes, Vanellope; I like you. But..." Staring up at nothing, "I don't know how much. Remember that half of this was just hormones at work. Stuff you learn at school..?" He licked a side of his lip to try and moisten it, only to catch a lingering flavor. He gulped down latent fear while waiting for something to subside. From his periphery, Vane had sat up to try and fix her mussed hair to no avail. "You look real cute like that," pausing in processing what he'd said, "don't fight it."

Vane wrung her hands to keep down the urge, flattered and relieved that he didn't try to kick her out for trying anything with him as unwarranted as it was. And to put a compliment over all that; "Thank you, Turbo.."

The guy raised a brow, "Can I give you a nickname? 'Little girlie'?" Vanellope stuck her tongue out in disapproval, to which he grinned—"Alright, 'Vanilla'? Red, 'Licorice'? Calling you 'Vannie' sounds like 'Manny' and you're not a dude.."

The girl shook her head and placed hands on her hips, "Neither; just my name or 'Vane' like before."

"Okay, 'Peppermint'." In a bold move, an unexpected sock landed on his arm, "Oww..!" Still didn't ruin his increasingly playful mood, "That's the one then~!" Vanellope grumbled but played with her hair in habit.

Thomas pecked her cheek; it was a pleasant surprise, "I'll put the clothes to wash while I take a shower, 'k?" Vanellope giggled, eyes failing to meet his before nodding.

* * *

Saturday mornings at the boys' apartment tended to be obnoxious. Both the television and the music would be on max level; obscenities would be tossed around carelessly as well as the occasional object. Chores and frantic errands galore. Joseph would usually be in the middle of everything resulting in his decision to take a walk around the block to clear his head.

This morning was the exception. The twins didn't even bother to touch the remote but instead stared from the couch, knees on the cushion and arms crossed over the top. Vanellope was helping in prepping the food for the day's early breakfast. It was clear that Thomas didn't fully trust her with the knife so he was guiding her hand, keeping at a respectable distance of course. Their voices kept at a low enough level which worked more to soothe one another in place of a typical interaction between a teacher and student. The youngest brother sensed that someone was watching, but for the time being honed all attention to their guest. Now and again a close-lipped smile could be seen; he restrained himself from placing a hand on her shoulder.

Benjamin exchanged a questioning look with Joseph before biting a dry lip; the other brushed bangs from his eyes with tense fingers. It would be beyond cruel to crack a joke during the most peace they've had in the household for years now. The twins couldn't be too sure to assume the worst had befallen their little Turbo, given a review of earlier incidents, but were appreciative of the fact that _someone_ had calmed that sucker down. It just happened to be this young girl.

"Any estimated time for when it'll be ready?" Ben stood up seeming casual in attitude wearing a black tank top and green flannel pants; Joseph was one for the robe in a cool gray shade and unlike his brother wore matching slippers. The younger twin went around the couch to the kitchen table stretching his arms up, "You're doing great Miss Vanellope..!"

Turning around just a quarter, "Thank you, Joseph;" Looking up to Turbo for silent approval, holding her breath for a moment, "and Ben—breakfast will be ready in less than 10, I think.."

* * *

"I taught the guy everything he knows..!"

"You're such a liar;" laughing, "our dad did. Thomas was clearly the favorite and he'd be taken out to all sorts of places. Spectating races and whatever." Vane brought a knee up wrapped her arms around it, wanting to hear more.

While the four had finished the last of the personalized omelets, engaged in a much more relaxed conversation than the night before, a cell rang on the counter connected to the wall. It was Turbo's work phone.

"Uh oh; last minute commission." Benjamin wiped the side of his mouth before downing the last drops of coffee. Thomas' shoulders nearly slouched as he walked over to the device. He had it in mind to bring the kid along to the marketplace which included a few shops that she could be interested in. At least it would brighten the mood. "Hello; this is your neighborhood mechanic Thomas speaking. What can I help you with today?"

"Is she there?" A woman's voice made his arm take the phone away for a second. He unplugged the wire a little late to take said voice away from the kitchen and to the hallway. "Excuse me, who is this?"

"Vanellope. Is she there with you?" His grip tightened on the receiver, quieting his voice just enough under the din of clattering utensils and the others talking, "Ms. Von Schweetz. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you." Pausing, wondering how she knew this number before shutting his eyes at the obvious answer—stuck on cards, "Yes, your daughter's here. She's alright." What was his excuse for taking her home? "I.. saw her alone in the rain and I was afraid she'd get sick, so I.." Clearing his throat, "Where's Bill?" Foot tapping once on the wood vinyl.

Silence on the other end, before her tone went from worried to irritated, "Just take Vanellope to her friend's house, alright? You know which one."

The end of that sentence almost sounded accusatory; Turbo shook off the feeling right away, "Yes M'am. I'll do that as soon as I can." He let her decide when the call was over. At the click he let out a long sigh.

So much for a beginning of a good day.


End file.
